The Capture of the Earl of Glencrae by Stephanie Laurens

Author:Stephanie Laurens [Laurens, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harper Collins, Inc.
Published: 2012-01-30T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

“That’s it.” Dominic halted on the pavement at the point where Blackfrairs Wynd met Curfew Row, and tipped his head at the house across the street.

On his arm, Angelica all but jigged. “It’s exactly as I imagined it.”

Her pleasure shone in her face, reward enough for his efforts in hunting down another guest at the hotel, an old lady’s companion who was a devotee of Scott and who had confirmed the site of Scott’s Fair Maid’s house.

“I must write to Henrietta and Mary—they’re such champions of Scott’s work. They’ll be eager to visit us just so they can stop and view this house.” Having changed into a walking dress and put on her bonnet, she tipped her head back to look up at him. “Can we cross and go closer?”

He obliged, escorting her across the narrow street. The house stood directly on the street, allowing her to walk along the front wall, covertly glancing in through the window.

Halting before the door, she looked up at the stone lintel. “ ‘Grace and Peace’—just as Scott said. That’s the motto of the Glovers’ Guild, apparently.” She sighed.

“Back to the hotel.” He steered her on. “It’s quite a walk.”

“But it was worth it.” She hugged his arm, leaned closer. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He squelched the urge to kiss her, there in the middle of the street, blocked his awareness of her breast brushing his arm. “It was probably wise to walk after half a day and more in the saddle.”

And even that perfectly innocent statement set his libido slavering, evoking the sensation of him lying in the saddle of her silken thighs.

He fixed his gaze ahead. “This way.” He hoped she didn’t hear the deeper tone in his voice.

They strolled back into Castle Gable, past Horse Cross and the remnants of the old city wall, into the top of Skinnersgate, then turned into Barret’s Close.

She looked up and around. “It’s like Edinburgh, isn’t it? All these narrow, twisting lanes.”

“Mmm.” He was hoping Perth would be like Edinburgh in another way, as well. Throughout the day he’d fought to keep his mind from dwelling on their previous night’s activities; riding when aroused had never been high on his list of acceptable tortures. Courtesy of her questions and the physical separation of riding, he’d managed well enough. Until they’d arrived at the King’s Arms and he’d organized rooms for the night.

He’d taken two large bedchambers—one for her and one for him. He was reasonably well known at the hotel and had no wish to generate unnecessary gossip; as Angelica had a maid with her, and they were traveling with a group of his staff, the image he’d arranged to project was that he was escorting his chosen bride to his home.

Of course, having separate rooms didn’t mean they would be using both beds.

It was at that point, when she’d retreated to her room to change, and he’d gone into his to change his coat and had seen the huge bed, that his

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